


Good Things Do Happen

by thewinchesterlifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Praying, Dean Winchester and Feelings, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Character Death (don't worry...seriously don't worry), POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11060802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterlifestyle/pseuds/thewinchesterlifestyle
Summary: He was numb.Empty.Hollowed out.Dean stared up, shock slowly working its way out of his system, as he tried desperately to wrap his mind around what had just happened.





	Good Things Do Happen

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I did this to myself but I needed to fix the finale. This is my poor attempt at doing that.

How was it possible to hurt this much and still be alive? The pain was Earth shattering, world ending and relentless as it slammed into him. It stole his breath and took his feet out from under him.

Dean’s knees pressed into the hard, unforgiving ground, and pain, unspeakable _loss_ , was the only thing present as it slowly, mercilessly consumed him. Wings. _Cas’s_ _wings_ were burnt into the ground and he couldn’t _breathe_. He couldn’t _think_.

Did it matter if the world ended? It felt like it already had.

He was numb.

Empty.

Hollowed out.

Dean stared up, shock slowly working its way out of his system, as he tried desperately to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

Crowley sacrificed himself.

The spell was going to work, it was going to trap Lucifer in a completely different world and that would be one problem solved, but then suddenly Castiel was there and pushing between them.

Castiel had charged Lucifer while Sam held him back, dragged him through the rip and Dean had felt a single moment of relief when Castiel had come back through only for Castiel to be violently ripped from him in a flash of grace.

Then Lucifer and his Mom. Both gone in another flash of light and now he was left in the dark with Castiel’s body, the ashy imprint of his wings and all-consuming pain.

Dean looked back down and wished with every single fiber of his being that Castiel would wake up. “ _Cas_.” his voice was choked, rough and foreign to his own ears, as the sight of Castiel’s grace flaring bright when he was murdered right as Dean had gotten him back kept playing on repeat in his mind. “ _Dammit, Cas.”_

How many times? How many times did he have to watch Cas die? He couldn’t survive this pain repeatedly forced on him over and over and over until he’d been emotionally beaten into the ground.

Dean looked skyward again, he looked towards _Chuck_ , in a silent plea. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how he lost Castiel. Not his angel. Not his angel in a trench coat who _always_ came when he called, who had heard _every single prayer_ he’d offered up and had done everything in his power to keep Dean safe, alive and whole.

But how could he be whole if Castiel had somehow, without realization and in what had to be one of the biggest jokes in the universe, taken a huge chunk of Dean with him?

He felt broken, cracked and ruined, as Castiel lay there still and unmoving. This was agony. This was unimaginable loss because every time he’d lost Castiel there had been some distant hope he’d see him again and no sign of wings burnt into the ground was always good.

Angels always left wings when they were truly killed.

Dean looked back down, took in the wings spread out and burnt into the ground like neglected ash, as silent tears finally started rolling down his cheeks. His breathing hitched, his heart _ached_ and he couldn’t _breathe_.

**_Please, Chuck, please. I can’t…I can’t lose him again. I can’t lose_ ** **Cas.**

His hand shook as he reached out, hesitant and broken to his very core, to rest on the still and silent chest of the angel who had burst into his life in a shower of sparks, completely flipped his world upside down and kept coming back full of snark and unexpected sass. Castiel who had become his best friend. A constant in his life that he needed.

**_I know…I know I keep asking. I keep praying every time but you can’t just give me someone like Cas and keep taking him away. I can’t…I can’t breathe, Chuck, I can’t fucking breathe. Please…please give him back._ **

Sam was gone, in the house and Dean didn’t want to think about Lucifer’s child, didn’t want to think about Lucifer and his Mom in another reality. He didn’t want to think.

 _He didn’t want to **feel**_.

“Fuck.” The word was ragged and Castiel’s chest remained still underneath his hand. Still and empty. An empty vessel that Jimmy had given to Castiel and that Chuck had kept recreating for Castiel. “Fuck, Cas, fuck.” He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this anymore. This life that stole everything from him, that tore him to pieces over and over and over until he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly been whole before.

This was worse than death.

Death was an end to agony and this life seemed unending.

_“You’re my family. I love you.”_

Castiel’s words, the choked and broken way he’d said them as he had locked eyes with Dean while putting every single bit of emotion into his declaration, flitted through Dean’s head and Dean hated that he hadn’t said them back. There were a million ways that he had let Castiel know he cared about him, how much Castiel had meant to him over the years, but he’d never been brave enough to actually say the words.

The closest he’d come was telling Castiel that he _needed_ him.

That Dean _needed_ Castiel was an understatement.

“You stupid angel.” The words were harsh, rough and tasted bitter on his tongue as tears continued to silently roll down his cheeks. His eyes burned, his throat throbbed and Dean hated with every fiber of his being the archangel who had stolen Castiel from him. “Rushing into death without a thought.” Dean stared at Castiel’s peaceful face and wished he was staring into blue eyes filled with anger instead of a face unanimated, devoid of life and empty. “You keep sacrificing and sacrificing over and over and over again. And for what? For humanity? For us?” he choked on his next words, “ _For me_? I’m not worth it, Cas. I never was.”

**_Dammit, Chuck, I know you can hear me. I know you can. And I’m begging…I’m begging you with everything I am and everything I have…please. Please give him back. He didn’t deserve this. He never deserved this. He’s a good son. He’s a good friend…he’s family, Chuck, he’s mine._ **

“It used to be just Sammy and Bobby after I lost my parents.” He admitted to Castiel’s still form, legs going numb and body slumped in defeat as loss weighed him down. “Then you came and you never left. I used to think angels were nothing but stories. I never thought…I never thought, _if_ they were real, there would be one that would care about _me_. Never thought that one would fight for me…that an angel would turn into someone who became my best friend. I never thought you would be one of the most important things in my life.

But you are. Fuck, Cas, you’re right up there with Sam. I would die for you. I would give up my life for you without hesitation but I never wanted you to give up yours.” His breathing was getting harsher and harsher, tears warm and wet on his face, as Dean unwillingly drowned in a tidal wave of emotion he’d been desperately holding back for years.

Everything was hitting at once, all of it, and he didn’t _fucking care_ about saving face.

He wasn’t _fine_.

Would he ever be fine again?

“I love you, Cas. I’ve loved you for years and I never said it. I never fucking said it because I was afraid.”

At that final admission, one of the few things he’d desperately kept close to his heart and hidden away from the world, Dean gave himself over to mourning. He let himself get swept up in the agony of loss, the crippling pain of it, as the hole that Castiel had filled in his life ached and throbbed. The first sob caught him off guard but once it started it was impossible to stop.

His entire body shook with great, heaving sobs and his uneven breathing hitched in his throat, denying him air and burning in his chest. Tears blurred his vision, his fingers knotted in Castiel’s shirt, as he gave in and let go.

The pain of loss, of losing so much over the years and repeatedly losing someone who had come to mean more to him then his own life, was crippling in its intensity.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Cas, I’m so fucking sorry.” The words tripped over themselves to tumble out of his trembling lips, filling the cool night air, in a meaningless litany that Dean couldn’t stop himself from releasing. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.” His fingers curled tightly in Castiel’s shirt, trying to ground himself and failing. “You didn’t deserve this.”

It hurt like Hell.

**He’s a gift.**

Dean’s breathing froze in his chest, every single cell of his body stilling at the echoing and familiar voice in his head, as tears continued their silent march down his flushed cheeks.

**You keep those.**

Underneath Dean’s hand the still chest warmed. Dean didn’t move, he barely breathed, until he opened his eyes and watched as a brilliant flash of light swelled, pulsed and heated the air, before filling Castiel.

Before his eyes Castiel’s lips parted, his chest rose and fell, and then brilliant blue eyes opened to lock with his. Castiel blinked, a slightly confused expression on his face before it faded away into concern and his brow furrowed.

Dean’s hand didn’t release its hold where he still clutched the front of Castiel’s shirt while Castiel sat up, eyes never leaving him, as his lips parted to speak. “ _Dean_.” He couldn’t breathe when Castiel’s hand came up, brushed over his damp cheeks, all the while never looking away. “What’s the matter?”

 _You don’t think you deserve to be saved._ His mind almost gleefully offered up the next sentence to a conversation years ago, the first one he’d had with Castiel and one of the most important. It seemed so long ago, had seemed irrelevant but Castiel had been right.

Good things do happen.

This. This was a good thing and somehow it had happened to _him_.

Dean didn’t think, didn’t fucking care, when he yanked Castiel to him and wrapped his arms around him. His face tucked against Castiel’s neck, arms as tight as they could be and their bodies crushed together in one of the most desperate hugs he’d ever given.

**_Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you thank you._ **

“You’re alive.” His voice was shaky, rough from sobbing and it hurt to talk but he didn’t fucking care because _Cas was alive_. “Don’t ever do that again. Please don’t ever do that again.”

Warm, strong arms finally came up and curled around him in a return embrace that Dean let himself melt into. He breathed in _Cas_ and savored the feeling of Castiel hugging him back when he’d thought only moments ago that this would never happen again.

It was a miracle.

It was a gift he knew he didn’t deserve but Dean was going to be selfish.

“I love you too, Cas.” The arms around him tensed for a moment and Dean’s breathing stilled in his chest as he waited. He rarely said the words even when he meant it with every part of himself. Dean tried to show his love through actions, through looks and touches, through words that said everything but _I love you_ out loud.

Castiel pulled him closer and somehow he ended up completely pressed to Castiel, Castiel whose body was warm and _alive_ , as his angel hugged him tighter. “I know, Dean.” It was simple, profound, and warmth surged through him.

Even if he’d never said it before there was unimaginable comfort in knowing that Castiel had always known.

“I heard it in every prayer. I saw it in every action and in all the ways you said it without words.” Dean pulled in a shaky breath, breathing finally calming and pain leaching from his very soul with every passing second that Castiel remained warm and real before him.

Slowly, with silent reluctance, Dean pulled back and stared. The hole from where Lucifer had stabbed Castiel remained in Castiel’s shirt and Dean looked away from it. He would have nightmares about watching Castiel go up in a flash of grace and ashy wings.

Nightmares that would now be grounded in reality. More nightmares to add to the long list he already dealt with almost nightly but he would accept them if it meant Castiel was alive.

Castiel glanced to the side and Dean saw him freeze at the sight of his burnt wings on the cold, unforgiving ground. The only sounds between them were the sounds of their breathing and the sounds of nature around them.

“My wings…” Castiel stared, eyes flitting over to the bloodied angel blade and back to the wings again. “I should be—”

“No.” Dean cut in roughly, “No you shouldn’t be dead.” He knew his voice was harsh but Dean would never get that image out of his head. Another memory of Castiel dying to add to the horror collection he already possessed of loved ones violently taken from him. “You’re alive and that’s what matters.”

Castiel finally turned his attention back to Dean where they were still pressed close. Personal space was almost nonexistent between them and it amazed him at how far they’d come since he’d been pulled from Hell. “How?”

“Chuck,” Dean thought about the voice and a wiry grin tugged his lips at the use of his own words back at him. Words very similar to the ones he’d uttered to Castiel when he’d returned the cassette tape he’d carefully recorded for Castiel to listen to when he wasn’t with them. “He brought you back.”

Dean watched pleased wonder fill Castiel’s eyes at the realization that his Dad had given him another chance at life. Affection rushed through Dean when he thought about every single time Chuck had given Castiel back without asking for a thing in return.

The first time was after finding out from Chuck himself that Castiel had been destroyed. The pain hadn’t been as blinding then but instead a surprising flash that had caught him by surprise. It had only gotten more painful and then unbearable over the years.

“Where is everyone?”

The question almost caught Dean off guard as the thoughts he’d pushed aside in his grief slowly crawled back into awareness. “Sam is inside the house,” Dean wasn’t sure what was happening there, he couldn’t even look at the house when Castiel’s body was on the ground in front of him and Sam had disappeared inside. “Mom…she fought Lucifer and they,” he swallowed, “They fell into the rip.”

A warm hand gripped his shoulder, steady and comforting, as Castiel focused on him. “We’ll save her.” His words were a promise and Dean relaxed, nodded in agreement. Then the familiar warmth of grace was rushing through him, taking with it all the aches and pains he’d acquired since Castiel last healed him.

Somehow they both got to their feet, ashy wings ignored and Castiel’s bloody blade reluctantly picked up. They needed to check on Sam, deal with Lucifer’s kid and save their Mom.

Then they needed a break.

Every last one of them desperately needed a break.

They reached the front of the house and Dean paused causing Castiel to come to a standstill next to him, curious and waiting. He took a deep, shaky breath and forced himself to put himself out there. They could die after going into that house because neither of them knew what was inside.

“I lied before.”

There was a rough sound from beside him where Castiel had become very, very still.

“I said _I love you_ but that wasn’t it.” Dean closed his eyes and opened them to regard Castiel. He couldn’t risk losing this chance. Death came quick and often times unexpectedly. But Dean needed Castiel to understand the full extent of the emotions he’d kept close to the chest. This might not be the best time but it was time. “ _I’m in love with you_.”

When he’d allowed himself, silently and in the dark, to imagine kissing Castiel he had _always_ imagined being the one to close the distance, curling his hands in the front of Castiel’s coat and kissing his angel.

Reality rarely, if ever, followed fantasy’s plan.

It was Castiel who stepped into his space, Castiel who gripped him and Castiel who pressed their lips together for the very first time. Warmth, tingling and perfect, swept through him as Dean leaned into the kiss and his hands came up to grip Castiel back just as tightly.

Everything else was gone in that moment except the angel in front of him and the most meaningful kiss in his existence. Every single thing they hadn’t said over the years was in that kiss and Dean could feel the depth of Castiel’s love, the depth of his care, as Castiel’s hand curled warm against the back of his neck, fingers brushing his hair.

They parted for air, foreheads pressed together and everything right between them, as Dean took in the sight of Castiel’s flushed cheeks, darkened eyes and kiss swollen lips. A ridiculous grin appeared on his face while a small, pleased smile appeared on Castiel’s.

“I guess it’s a good thing Jack isn’t taking after his father.” Sam’s voice broke through the air and Dean started to jerk back, startled and slightly embarrassed to be caught literally getting lost in Castiel’s eyes, but Castiel kept a firm hold on him and turned to regard the two standing only feet away.

“Hello Sam.”

“Cas.” A relieved, happy smile lit Sam’s face and Dean stepped away to allow his brother to drag Castiel in for a hug. He knew what it felt like to need a hug to reaffirm someone he cared about was safe and whole. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

He stared at the other being with them, taking in the sight of Lucifer’s son, as Sam and Castiel separated still talking. His mind went back over Sam’s words, rewound and then stuttered to a confused halt.

“ _Jack_?” Dean’s face pinched and he could hear both Sam and Castiel stop talking, “Who names the son of the Devil… _Jack_?”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually kind of made myself tear up just writing Dean's pain which is probably ridiculous since I knew what I was going to write.
> 
> I'm sure this isn't how things are going to kick off in Season 13 but that isn't going to stop the fact that I fixed what happened in my own way and in a way that ends on a far happier, hopeful note.
> 
> I hope you all liked this one. It ended up a bit angsty but after what Dean just saw and everything that happened it was a more realistic head-space for him to be in. Also I _know_ the gift part was probably cliche as fuck but I had to use that line. I had to.


End file.
